


Etchings, Coffee and Stamps, or Three Times When Steve Didn't Get It and One Time He Did

by MarInk



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, a ball of silly fluff, do you know what etchings actually are?, i didn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-30 00:43:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5144033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarInk/pseuds/MarInk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony drops hints. Jarvis has fun. Steve is blissfully ignorant of the goings-on. And Dummy is helpful, as always.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Etchings, Coffee and Stamps, or Three Times When Steve Didn't Get It and One Time He Did

"So..." Tony drawls. "When we get back, would you like to come up to the penthouse and see my etchings?"

He doesn't expect anything much, to be honest. It's just their first date, and Steve is from the forties, after all. Tony is willing to wait as long as Steve needs but right now he wants to elicit a blush because Steve looks good with pinkness creeping up his cheeks.

What he doesn't expect is that Steve's eyes lit up and he smiles widely and unabashedly.

"I didn't know you collected etchings! They are a fascinating form of art, aren't they? I always wanted to try it, just to see what it's like to work with metal instead of paper, but I never had the right tools, and then there was the war."

Tony listens to the history of etchings (and, frankly, it's one of the most boring things on Earth but Steve looks so inspired that Tony doesn't have the heart to interrupt him).

Dammit. Hasn't Steve roamed the Internet enough yet to learn what's what in the modern dating? Admittedly, Tony made sure Steve always had the safety on but surely, etchings?

Well, fuck, what else can he do? He whips out his phone and sends a quick text to Jarvis under the table: "Procure a collection of etchings ASAP, I want it to be in the penthouse when we get back."

"Of course, sir," Jarvis answers. Tony can _hear_ the sass.

He hides the phone, Steve being none the wiser to this little exchange, and listens. Might as well learn what the heck etchings actually are if he's going to have a collection of them by tonight.

* * *

"How about a cup of coffee up there with me?" Tony makes sure to leer his best so that Steve can't miss the signs. There's no way he can't pick up on that, right? Besides, they already had coffee half an hour ago at the restaurant, and Tony knows Steve isn't stupid.

Also, this is the third, and who knows, Tony might actually get lucky.

"Oh, Tony." Steve smiles at him fondly, no blushing and not a single fucking clue in his baby blues. "You just can't stay away from coffee, can you? If a villain ever wants to take you out of commission, they just need to eliminate the coffee, seriously."

Tony can't decide whether it's a joke or an insult veiled with a joke. Steve isn't prone to insulting Tony or anybody, but Tony is perfectly capable of functioning without coffee, thank you very much. He just prefers not to.

In the end he chooses to mentally bang his head on the wall as he follows Steve up into the little kitchen in the penthouse. Jarvis, the smug bastard, tells Steve how Tony likes his coffee, and Steve makes it for him. It's a shame Tony doesn't really notice the taste.

* * *

"You know, I keep a collection of stamps in my bedroom. Would you like to come up and see?" Tony tries half-heartedly. This one is old, right? It must work. Once Tony got his hands on an English-Hungarian phrasebook from the forties and there it was, 'Would you like to see the collection of stamps I have in my room?' with an honest to God note on the side saying 'to lure her into your room'.

"I'd love to, Tony, but you remember we have a press conference tomorrow morning?" Steve says, oblivious as you please. "We need to sleep, not spend half the night looking at your collection. Let's make it tomorrow afternoon?"

"Yeah, sure," Tony nods. He is hardly going to sleep now, he's going to hide in his shower and jack off until his dick is sore but Steve probably doesn't want to know that. One would think that after the seventh date Steve would be wanting to get closer to Tony's bedroom, no matter if he understands the pick-up lines or not, but no.

Ouch. This thought pricks Tony's ego with a very sharp pin.

"Sir," Jarvis says, when Tony is alone in the penthouse, hands itching for a drink.

"Shut up and arrange for a stamp collection to be delivered by tomorrow," Tony says.

"Of course, sir." Jarvis oozes unhealthy glee at Tony's expense, and what has his life come to when his own AI thinks he's a laughing stock?

"Shut up, J."

Jarvis wisely chooses to do just that.

* * *

Tony honestly means to keep his mouth shut. Nothing good ever comes out from voicing his ideas so he has decided to stare at Steve in silence as Steve sketches over there on his couch in Tony's workshop, not paying attention to the fact that Tony stopped tinkering some time ago.

Steve is handsome. There's no denying it. Tony looks his fill of Steve's full lower lip, bit slightly in concentration, of his hands, big in contrast to the small, precise movements of the pencil, his soft light hair (Tony knows it's soft. Tony touched), the delicious, tantalizing stretch of the t-shirt across Steve's chest. 

"Would you like to come up to the penthouse and have sex with me?" he hears himself saying, and his treacherous mouth finishes the words, crystal clear and distinct even as Tony's mind is waving red flags at it frantically: abort mission! Abort mission, you idiot, you're ruining everything!

Steve looks up from his drawing, surprised, and there it is, the blush blooming bright on the cheekbones. Tony bets it would feel extra warm under his lips.

He shuts his eyes and waits for Steve to say something along the lines of 'you're a swell guy, Tony, but I realized I don't like you in that way', or 'sorry, Tony, I just don't want you, I think we should break up', or, you know, something that a kind and sweet supersoldier from the forties is supposed to say when faced with an indecent proposal.

"I," Steve says quietly, "I'd love to. If you want to. You know. Make love."

Tony risks cracking one eye open and regrets it immediately because Steve is looking straight at him, brave and unblinking even as the blush creeps down his neck and disappears under the collar.

"You would?" Tony confirms because it might still be a hallucination. Or maybe Steve inhaled something he shouldn't have, it's the workshop after all, and doesn't know what he's talking about.

"I would like it very much," Steve says in conspiratorial whisper. "I wasn't sure how to make the first move about that so I waited for you to do it. I must say," Steve grins, "you took your time."

"Sometimes sir is rather slow on the uptake," Jarvis agrees even though no one asked him, the non-corporeal jackass.

Dummy chirps happily and opens one of the desk drawers to fish out an expired condom and proudly present it to Tony. Steve looks like he finds it all both mortifying and incredibly hilarious.

"I'll donate you two to the community college," Tony says. "Right after I spend a few days in bed with you," he points at Steve so there wouldn't be any confusion about anything this time around.

"We shall be trembling in fear, awaiting your return, sir," Jarvis says.

"Come on up," Steve gets on his feet and reaches out to take Tony's hand. "If I have to wait any more before I have you all to myself, I'm going to explode."

 _You are, huh? What about me?_ Tony thinks as he follows Steve obediently (never let it be said that Tony Stark doesn't follow orders he finds reasonable).

He refrains from saying anything, though, and kisses Steve.

That, Steve understands very well.

 _Thank fuck_ , Tony thinks and stops thinking all that much afterwards.

* * *

The etchings and the stamps get donated to the community college. Jarvis and Dummy don't.

**Author's Note:**

> The English-Hungarian phrasebook is real, too. I saw it, I don't think i could ever make it up.


End file.
